During the end of the Cold War, Gilbert Levine ’71 was invited to become music director and conductor of the Krakow Philharmonic. As an American Jew whose grandparents had emigrated from Poland and whose mother-in-law’s entire family was killed at Auschwitz-Birkenau, he initially did not jump at the offer. But he did accept, and his time in that position, from 1987 to 1993, led to his meeting Pope John Paul II and beginning a musical and spiritual friendship that would span 17 years. In his memoir, The Pope’s Maestro (Jossey-Bass), Levine chronicles that collaboration, the concerts he created and conducted for the pope, and their shared belief in the power of music to bring peace and heal religious wounds. He has been honored with the highest Pontifical Knighthood accorded a non-ecclesiastical musician since Mozart. Levine spoke with PAW’s Katherine Federici Greenwood.
Why did you hesitate to accept the position with the Krakow Philharmonic in 1987?
I had serious reservations on two grounds. One was the fact that it was very serious communist times. We now see in retrospect it was dissolving, but that’s not the way it looked in 1987. My wife came from the communist east, she was a refugee from Czechoslovakia. My mother-in-law had lost more than more than 40 relatives in the Holocaust. And Poland was where many of the worst of concentration and annihilation camps were located. It is just haunted by memories. A lot of that political and historical weight was very heavily on my mind.
So why did you finally decide to go?
A professor emeritus at Rutgers Law School, Newark, Norman L. Cantor ’64 has spent years studying and writing about the legal aspects of death and dying, including end-of-life decisions, living wills, and assisted suicide. In his latest book, After We Die: The Life and Times of the Human Cadaver (Georgetown University Press), he has turned to the rights and handling of human remains. Cantor examines when persons are considered dead, the decomposition of the body, the history of burial, embalming, and cremation, and uses of cadavers such as for organ transplant and medical research. Along the way he includes anecdotes, including one about a husband who wanted to be buried at sea to spite his wife, who had declared that she wanted to dance on his grave. Cantor spoke with PAW’s Katherine Federici Greenwood.
Why did you want to study the rights of cadavers and the handling of postmortem human remains?
I had always had some curiosity about whether death ends the legal protection afforded to the now deceased or whether there might be remaining rights. And then there were a number of controversies that crystallized the question. My stepbrother, when he died in 1973, had left controversial instructions, and they were, in fact, implemented, but I wondered about the legal boundaries. He wanted a New Orleans-style wake and funeral in Trenton, N.J. And that meant a Dixieland band at the funeral home playing music during the wake and a procession from the funeral home to cemetery. My stepfather was a little scandalized by the unconventional request.
And then years later the Ted Williams case in 2003 [when the baseball player’s daughter wanted his ashes scattered over the Florida Keys and his son wanted his corpse frozen until a cure could be found and he could be brought back to life] and the death of Anna Nicole Smith in 2007 [and the controversy about where she wanted to be buried] — those public controversies over the handling of remains triggered my curiosity all over again.
Architect Joel Barkley *93 has designed stunning homes inspired by a wide range of styles. Some of his most impressive projects — from a stately, Colonial Revival country house in New Jersey (pictured below) to a Hawaiian beach retreat and a sleek Manhattan loft — are featured in a new book, Houses (The Monacelli Press). One of the founding partners of Ike Kligerman Barkley, an architectural and interior design firm with offices in New York City and San Francisco, Barkley spoke with PAW’s Katherine Federici Greenwood about his work and his bees.
What do you seek to capture when designing a house for a client?
Usually with a client and a site there’s a given situation, whether it’s the client’s personality or the character of the houses around the given site or the history of architecture in a given place. So you never get a tabula rasa. And so what we always do at the beginning is listen to everything, whether it’s the neighboring buildings or the client. But that’s not to say we’re not in the mood to do something that’s just in our brain. We come with our own theme. So it is listening but also being ready with our own way of processing stuff.
The architect Robert A.M. Stern calls Ike, Kligerman, and Barkley “modern traditionalists” who “build for the here and now but are at home in architecture’s history, from which their work gains its strength.”
Students at the Garden Project prepare the soil on a recent workday. (Colleen McCullough ’12)
The Garden Project at Forbes College offers students a unique Friday afternoon study break opportunity: weeding, harvesting vegetables, or painting the shed. The project, which started in 2007 and aims to educate the campus about the American food system, holds weekly “workdays” where members help out with tasks around the garden. The garden provides fresh produce to the Forbes Dining Hall, local artisan ice cream shop Bent Spoon, the Greening Princeton Farmers’ Market, nearby vendors, and special campus events. The garden also hosts cooking demonstrations, lectures, and movies. The Weekly Blog’s Tara Thean ’13 sat down with Colleen McCullough ’12, the group’s transitional adviser, to talk about where The Garden Project is headed.
How has membership been in the new academic year?
This year we’ve got a lot of new faces, and we’re hiring new officers – we’re trying to set more of a precedent for future leaders of the garden. We have six new officers for next year and two unpaid interns training to pick up as officers. We’re hoping that by engaging more students in leadership roles we can increase student involvement so it’s less concentrated in two people – Eva Wash ’11 and myself – and reach out to more people. We’ve also been working with a lot of student groups, like Slow Food Princeton and Greening Princeton, which really helps bring people in. And we’re trying to interact more with the [residential] college system.
How have you been interacting with the residential college system?
We’re technically part of Forbes College, so they help us with funding. The Forbes director of studies, Patrick Caddeau, is very involved with the garden. We advertise our events in the Forbes newsletter, and we have various workdays that we particularly advertise to Forbes residents. It just makes more sense for them to be involved.
Jane Randall ’12 (© Mathieu Young/The CW)
For many Princeton students, summer break is a great time to travel abroad, intern with a congressman, or work on particle accelerators in a lab. Jane Randall ’12, however, spent her summer quite differently: on reality TV. The lean 5-foot-9-inch history major and former varsity lacrosse player appears this month on Cycle 15 of America’s Next Top Model (ANTM), a reality show aimed at giving women a chance to start their career in the modeling industry. Randall, who plans to take a semester off to pursue modeling, spoke with The Weekly Blog’s Tara Thean ’13.
Why did you decide to audition for the show?
I was looking into modeling – I sent my picture to a couple of agencies. Then I was watching Gossip Girl and a little thing popped up about how to audition [for ANTM], so I sent in a picture I had taken in my dorm room.
Can you remember the moment when you got in?
I was really excited when I found out I got in, but it was during finals. Right after I made the show I had to go for a photo shoot in Los Angeles. [Deputy registrar] Robert Bromfield told me that the show’s auditions did not count as an excuse to miss finals, so I got really lucky that I finished all my papers. After the shoot, I went back to Princeton and took a history final at 9 a.m.
Was the show what you expected?
I can never look at reality TV the same way again. Just from knowing how the cameramen tell people to move around, how things can be edited to project any storyline … it’s definitely been frustrating, but it’s exciting to watch. Everything goes by very fast – it’s one of the most physically, immensely exhausting experiences ever. I took the rest of the summer off.
In 1949 Art and Nan Kellam — an aviation engineer and his wife — decided to leave “civilization” and seek a simpler life, on an uninhabited island off the Maine coast. They bought 550-acre Placentia Island and lived there together until 1985, without electricity. They built their house and would row two miles to Bass Harbor to get supplies and mail. Peter P. Blanchard III ’74 first met Nan in 1987, two years after her husband had died. Blanchard was a volunteer with Maine’s chapter of The Nature Conservancy, to which the Kellams had given their island. (Nan died in 2001.) Blanchard recently wrote We Were An Island: The Maine Life of Art & Nan Kellam (University Press of New England), drawing on Nan’s journal, an unpublished manuscript the couple had written about their adventure, and their letters and correspondence. Blanchard spoke with PAW’s Katherine Federici Greenwood.
You first met Nan in 1987. Can you describe that meeting and what she was like?
I was sort of an emissary of good will [for The Nature Conservancy]. I was taken out there by a lobsterman who regularly helped Nan do chores after her husband died. She was living there by herself. I went out and had every intention to impress her. I carried what I thought was her favorite desert, strawberry ice cream. Unfortunately it had been placed next to the engine of the lobster boat. The ice cream had turned into a melted soup so when I opened the door the ice cream slipped from me and fell quite a bit on her and down the steps to the wonderful footprints the two had left in cement at the bottom of the stairwell. Not a way to start a friendship. … I [read] her actual journal entry for that day. She said, “I want to make sure the lobsterman sees this fellow off the island.” But then we became good friends.